


Songbird

by Magi_Silverwolf



Series: The Player's Haven Adventures [7]
Category: Original Work, The Player's Haven Adventures
Genre: Based on an RPG, Fantasy Culture, Functional Harem, Gen, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Shapeshifting, non-traditional family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:57:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magi_Silverwolf/pseuds/Magi_Silverwolf
Summary: There was an elf inStars Passagetonight. Jean knew just how to welcome them.





	Songbird

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please utilize understanding of personal sensitivities before and while reading.

-= LP =-  
Songbird  
-= LP =-

 

“Weave another song, Lady Bard,” called out a patron. Jean looked up from strumming her guitar, tossing her pale hair over her shoulder as she did so. The patron was a rather rotund man who appeared human. Not that appearances were much to go on—many of her aunts appeared human, and yet were quick to point out the fact that they had other races for their blood. Out of all the Rimon clan, only five were human, herself included. And yet most those five had an instinctive ability to change their bodies, again herself included. Plenty of people could appear human.

 

The pleading patron’s companion was not one of those, Jean noted even as her fingers began to pluck out the opening chords to _Ar Deireadh_. Elves, though rare outside of their domain, were very distinctive. Jean personally felt it was the unpleasant glower they all wore, but perhaps the ethereal beauty and pointed ears played a part. _Ar Deireadh_ was a traditional elven ballad that was much older than Jean. It was older than even her Aunt Luludja who was the one to teach Jean the song in Adroanzian Elven and the archaic tradetongue. It was also rarely heard outside elven lands, but that was no matter. _Stars Passage_ hosted an elf this night and the ballad did honor to both elves and the Rimon clan.

 

As Jean began to sing, she saw Nickolas shushing Imogen in the corner they had claimed after the evening meal. The man who had requested another song settled back in his seat, content that his plea had been heard. Aunt Fiona paused in her building of a couple of pints. Her meadow-colored eyes closed for the briefest of moments as if in remembered pain. Aunt Akiko bowed her head towards Jean but continued to deliver the tray full of orders she carried. From the steps leading to the rooms above the tavern, Aunt Theresa’s seductive alto floated out to join Jean’s rich soprano long before the succubus appeared at the bottom of the stairwell. Aunt Luludja stepped onto the stage and picked up her flute. The sweet sound mixed with the complex chords of the guitar. By the end of the first verse, Aunt Theresa had joined them on stage and had begun to measure the slow and steady cadence with her bodhran.

 

The song told of an elf that wasn’t really considered an elf, tainted as he was by his human father. This elf, Naoise of the Eagle, was never enough--too human for his mother’s people and too elven for the mortal children that surrounded him. His parents adored him, but he had no peers. When he came of age, he joined his mother’s people, so determined to find his place. He grew in power, mastering his internal magic and the traditional sword of the Elves. His strength did not matter to the elven elders. His tale until that point was no different from every other half-elf. He would never be sung of, beyond his dirge, except for one thing.

 

War came to the Adroanzi and Aunt Theresa picked up the cadence to match a racing heart. The Nyoka of the Majangwa Desert took it upon themselves to break a long-standing trade agreement with the Elves, seeking to take by force that for which they had previously bargained. There is only one way to enter the Adroanzi Forest by land, and that is through a solitary pass. Naoise had to beg to be a part of the force that would hold that pass--Aunt Luludja managed to make her notes be tinged with desperation. Naoise was allowed to join, however begrudgingly. He vowed to not fail. He would not shame the Elves, not any more than he already had by merely existing.

 

Tears shone in Jean’s orange eyes as she sang about his mother’s assurances of love and pride…and his father’s word through magical communication that he would come to help. Jean stilled her strings for the required pause, as Aunt Theresa counted out eight full measures as steady as heartbeats. Then the two bards traded places, bodhran still while the guitar played the broody introduction to the last verses.

 

Three days was how long the elven force lasted. Three days before every elf fell…all but one. Naoise of the Eagle, he who had never been enough--this mighty warrior held the pass all by himself. Anul slipped from round to crescent and back again. Still Naoise held the pass. His father arrived just as Naoise slew the last Nyoka warrior. Naoise almost attacked the man, stopping a hair’s breadth from cleaving his own father in two. At the last moment, Naoise pulled the swing. The long sword dropped harmlessly to the ground as Naoise fell to his knees. The magic that had sustained him was fading now upon completion of the vow into which he had poured his very soul. As that almighty force dissolved, so too did Naoise’s body. He was gone beyond all magic to revive him.

 

Aunt Luludja held a low note that reminded Jean of the mournful keening she had heard from Aunt Neola when Granny Verte had passed or the dirges that Aunt Doshi had taught Dani before allowing Jean’s sister to move from acolyte to journeyman rank. Likewise, the guitar notes dipped downwards. Jean closed her eyes as she mentally translated the elfin she was singing. Her voice gained a touch of huskiness, as this verse called for a touch of tears to the words.

 

_“What action could be greater than that of Naoise?_

_He who had been merely last has become great!_

_From the very bottom, he rose!_

_All were slain; all but one._

_Naoise of High Eagle, true._

_Now forever known as the Last to Fall!”_

All but the flute died out suddenly. The pub, normally boisterous, was silent. The elven woman was no longer glowering at her surroundings but staring at Jean. Her tell-tale green eyes were the first thing Jean saw when the song released her. In the uncommon stillness, the elf spoke, her words unnaturally loud.

 

“You sing very well, little songbird.”

 

It took Jean a moment to realize that the words were in Elven and “little songbird” was not derogatory. The Elves named everything after birds, including simple things like musicians. To be a _ceoltoir_ of the Elves was to be a great honor. Jean felt her face flush at the simply spoken praise.

 

Flustered, she looked around the tavern that she had brought to a standstill only to spot a table of her sibling peers. Abby and Ella were grinning widely. It was the look on Dani’s face that made Jean blush however. The journeyman healer looked like a cat who had feasted upon a fat canary. Their eyes met and Dani raised her hands.

 

The she-demon’s whole-hearted applause was what finally broke the audience’s stillness. The resulting applause rose far above any that she had received prior. It shocked her, just a bit. She was unprepared for Aunt Theresa to pull her into a crushing hug that ended with a smacking kiss to the forehead.

 

“Escape now, ducky,” Aunt Theresa murmured under the crowd’s noise, “lest you be forced to play all evening. A growing bairn shouldn’t be kept indoors while there is still sunlight.”

 

-= LP =-  
An Ending  
-= LP =-

**Author's Note:**

>  **Fem Power Challenge Information:**  
>  **Fill Number:** 14  
>  **Representation(s):** Jean Rimon; Nonbinary Character expressing Femme  
>  **Bonus Challenge(s):** n/a  
>  **Word Count:** 1220 (Story Only); n/a (Story  & Epigraph)


End file.
